


We Are Surrounded By All Of These Lies (And People Who Talk Too Much)

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Famous Louis, Famous Zayn, Genderswap, Girl Direction, Non-Famous Harry, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sugar Baby Harry, Sugar Daddy Louis, Vaginal Fingering, because what is a fanfic written by aya without some sugar action in some way, okay for the sake of tagging, why is there no sugar mama tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 15:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2314397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can’t keep seeing you,” is most probably not an acceptable way to start a conversation.</p><p>Louis seems to think so, too, if her raised eyebrows are anything to go by. “Well, what a way to break my heart, Harry Styles.”</p><p>“No, it’s not, I’m not turning you down,” Harry clarifies, glancing up at Louis, “whatever this thing between us is, I mean. I’d definitely like to keep seeing you, but we can’t for the next two weeks since I have exams coming up. That is, assuming that you’d still want to see me by then, or something.”</p><p> </p><p>(harry is a nineteen-year-old philosophy major and louis is a famous actress in her late twenties)</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Are Surrounded By All Of These Lies (And People Who Talk Too Much)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Star55](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star55/gifts).



> my actual contribution to star's girl direction month! this took me too long and i kinda rushed the ending part of it, since i didn't want to delay this any more than i already have. i'm sorry if it disappoints, or something. i'll try to come back to this another day to do some editing, maybe when uni decides to actually give me a break. but for now, here it is!
> 
> i don't really know anything about fashion or philosophy. i also hope it's not too obvious that i wrote most of this in between classes :'( star, i am gifting this to you. i love you very much a lot and i hope you don't hate this <3 title from ed sheeran's 'tenerife sea'

Harry’s just finishing the last part of a translation of Socrates’ Apology when a voice interrupts her, sounding a bit timid but also determined. She lifts a hand in the universal ‘wait a sec’ gesture without taking her eyes off the page, marks _you to live and I to die—which is better, God only knows_ with her yellow highlighter because it’s a pretty cool quote, and finally looks up.

There’s a girl standing there, probably older than her by a year or two, holding a sketchpad to her chest. Her hair’s dyed in pink and purple shades and her eyes are lined perfectly in dark eyeliner, and Harry blinks for a second, confused. “Um, how can I help you?”

The girl is most probably an art student, or something related. Harry’s been in this university long enough to know what a student majoring in a general field looks like, and this girl is obviously not from the sciences or the humanities. It’s confirmed when she says, “Hi. My name’s Perrie Edwards and I’m a fashion design senior. We have an upcoming show in a week and it serves as our final project for the term. It’s a requirement for graduation as well, maybe you’ve heard of it?”

Harry nods slowly, not really sure where this conversation is going. But she _has_ heard of the show, though—Niall’s been talking about it recently, since the photography students are also required to document the event. “I’ve heard of it, yes.”

Perrie looks a bit desperate when she says, “One of my models, Eleanor Calder, just got an injury from cheerleading practice the other day. She’s got a broken ankle and she can’t walk for at least a month, much less model my pieces.”

And oh. Oh. Harry knows what Perrie’s about to ask next even before the words are out of her mouth, and she’s already trying to come up with the nicest way to turn her down. She doesn’t want to be rude, really, but modeling is not her thing. Catwalk is not her thing. She’s got the grace of a newborn deer, that’s why Niall calls her Bambi sometimes.

Perrie sounds even more desperate, though, and just a bit hopeful when she continues, “Not to sound creepy or anything, but I’ve been looking at you for the last five minutes and you basically have the same body type as her. I really need to find a replacement or else I’m gonna fail. So, um, can you please be that replacement model?”

Harry opens her mouth, her polite refusal already complete in her mind, but she finds herself stuttering over her words when Perrie widens her eyes even more, pleading. “Um, I don’t—I mean I’d love to, but I’m not really—I haven’t ever—I can’t walk for shit.”

“Doesn’t really matter,” Perrie says, grabbing onto one of Harry’s hands tightly. She looks like she’s about ready to get on her knees and beg if Harry refuses. “I just really need someone who can wear my pieces. I’ve been working on my set for the last two months and I just. Please? I’ll pay you, even! Just please, _please_ help me.”

And the thing is, Harry’s always been too nice to say no.

-

As it turns out, Niall knows Perrie. Harry shouldn’t really be that surprised anymore, since Niall knows a lot of people, practically everyone.

“How can you not know Perrie?” Niall is asking, sitting on a chair in a dressing room backstage. Harry has no idea what this place is called, to be honest, since she doesn’t really know anything about fashion, and she definitely doesn’t have the patience to learn about all of the technical terms now since her main priority is walking in these heels without stepping on her skirt. She’s a philosophy major for a reason, okay.

“To be fair I didn’t know Harry until three days ago, either,” Perrie chirps, fixing the straps of the dress and examining Harry’s boobs. Or, lack of, to be honest. “Which is weird since I’ve been to a few of your parties, Niall.”

Ah, Harry thinks. “I never really stay for any of Niall’s parties.”

Perrie looks up at her, smiling a little. “Not a party kind of girl, then?”

Harry shakes her head, grip tight on the makeup table to keep her balance when Perrie asks her to lift a foot. “Not really, no. I crash at Liam’s place whenever Niall throws a party. Sometimes I stay inside my room and put ear plugs in.”

“Hmm,” Perrie hums, before taking a step back and inspecting Harry from head to toe. “Liam as in Liam Payne? Thick eyebrows, hair always up in a ponytail, goes to the gym a lot?”

“Yeah,” Harry nods, carefully spinning in place when Perrie twirls a finger at her. “You know her?”

“We’ve talked once. I think the journalism students are assigned to cover the event, so she approached me a few weeks ago,” Perrie says. “She’s also dating Sophia Smith who happens to be my roommate and one of my models, and she talks about Liam sometimes.”

Niall speaks up from where she’s sitting, camera in hand, “Looks like this is gonna be a pretty big thing.”

“Yeah, we’ve been told that important people are gonna come,” Perrie says, sounding a bit worried. “Zayn even called me to say she’s coming.”

“Wait, Zayn? Zayn as in Zayn Malik?” Harry asks, because there’s only really one important person with that name. Again, Harry knows nothing about the fashion industry, but _everyone_ knows who Zayn Malik is. Not only is she drop dead gorgeous, but she’s also of color and a Muslim who is very successful in a predominantly white and Christian industry. She’s also openly pansexual and has had a very public relationship with Louis Tomlinson, award-winning actress in her late twenties who, from the moment her face made it on the cover of magazines alongside Zayn Malik’s, stated that she is lesbian and not intending on hiding that fact. Harry’s not one for being crazily updated with the popular culture like Niall, who is pretty much obsessed with watching E! News, but even she has heard of that “scandal.”

Though, to be honest, the only thing scandalous about it is the way majority of the media wrote disgusting articles about the relationship. There’s a reason Harry doesn’t read the newspaper.

Anyway, point is, Zayn Malik is a pretty big name. And the fact that she’s coming to the event and apparently knows Perrie in some way is enough to have Harry nearly backing out.

“Yeah, Zayn Malik. We’re friends, I guess you could say.” Perrie shrugs. “Well, my older sister is friends with her since she’s a designer too, and she worked with Zayn a few times.” She blinks, staring at Harry. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“I don’t think I can do this,” Harry blurts out. “God, it was nerve-wracking enough having to walk out there when I have two left feet, but to walk in front of important people? In front of _Zayn Malik_? I might die, Perrie.”

“Oh no, you can’t back out on me now, Harry!” Perrie grabs onto Harry’s hands much like she did the first time she approached Harry. “I know I’m being a little selfish right now but I need you.”

Harry sighs and sits down on a chair—carefully, though, since she’s still wearing Perrie’s dress. “Okay, okay. I’m not backing out. But, like, I’m proper scared right now, just so you know.”

“If you ever need anything in the future, like, anything _at all_ , just tell me,” Perrie says. “Like, I owe you for this. And thank you, really. I’m really, really grateful.”

Harry smiles a little. “Okay then.”

Niall pipes in, then, surprising Harry. She almost forgot that the blond’s there. “Can you introduce us to Zayn Malik after?”

Perrie winks. “No problem.”

-

Harry’s walking three pieces. One of them is this long green dress with a slit on the side that shows off her right leg, the other is a less-formal black dress with a wide skirt that reaches up to her knees and shows off her collarbones, and the last is a two-piece outfit with a sheer top and trousers that hug her legs quite nicely.

They all look good on Harry, if she’s going to be honest. She also saw the other pieces earlier and they’re all great. Perrie is really good in what she does. Still, that doesn’t ease the nerves Harry is feeling.

They have an hour to go before the show starts, and Harry can’t stop worrying on her lower lip as her hair is being fixed. It’s tied in a low ponytail and pushed off to one side so that it falls down in waves over her left chest, and there’s a single white flower behind her right ear.

Jesy tuts at her as she makes sure not a single hair is out of place. She’s one of Perrie’s friends who volunteered to help with hair and makeup. “Stop that, dear, or we’ll have to reapply your lipstick again.”

“Sorry,” Harry mutters sheepishly. “I’m just nervous.”

“You’ll be fine,” Jesy says, and Harry just smiles a little in response.

They’ve practiced, of course, and Harry’s managed to go through it without falling over or tearing any of the outfits. She just hopes she’ll be able to get through this night unscathed, too.

Niall appears from out of nowhere, then, wearing an oversized jumper and a snapback. She’s got her camera hanging around her neck and she looks pretty excited as she taps at Harry’s shoulder repeatedly. “Guess who I just met and had a picture with!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking pictures of the runway and the guests, not having pictures with them?” Harry manages to roll her eyes at her friend. “But let me guess, Zayn Malik?”

Niall nods and shoves her camera under Harry’s nose. Harry glances at Jesy in the mirror and sees that she only looks amused. “Look at the picture! Look at it!” Niall practically demands.

Harry rolls her eyes again and takes the camera, before glancing down at it. Her jaw drops a little.

On the screen, there’s Niall grinning like she’s just won the lottery and Zayn Malik looking amused, standing on her left. On Niall’s other side is Louis Tomlinson. “Louis Tomlinson is here?” she asks.

“She came with Zayn,” Niall confirms, nodding.

“I thought they broke up?”

“They did, love, but they stayed friends,” Jesy pipes in, glancing down at the picture herself.

It’s then that Perrie appears, wearing a flower crown and a short blue dress that makes her look like some kind of fairy princess. “Show’s about to start,” she says, and Jesy reapplies Harry’s lipstick one more time before ushering her up, giving herself a good luck pat on the back.

-

Harry doesn’t fall or stumble, and Perrie gives her the biggest hug once they’re done.

Harry’s still a bit overwhelmed, so it doesn’t really register that Perrie’s taking her to their dressing room to meet Zayn Malik and Louis Tomlinson until Zayn Malik and Louis Tomlinson themselves are standing in front of Harry and the other models.

Perrie is talking animatedly to Zayn Malik, eyes wide and hands moving in the air restlessly. She looks incredibly happy, and Zayn Malik pulls her into a hug. Louis Tomlinson just watches them with this fond little smile, and Harry kinda stares for a second because her brain’s suddenly trying to make the connection that Louis Tomlinson, who she’s only ever seen on the telly and the big screen and in the few magazines that Harry’s bothered reading, is standing in the same room as her. Harry’s not really a major kind of fan, but she admires Louis Tomlinson for her talent and her bravery, and that’s enough to have her feeling a little starstruck.

Plus, like, Louis Tomlinson is a lot more striking in person. She’s gorgeous, fabulous even, standing there in a short red dress that shows off the curve of her body. She’s got a black jacket on top of the dress, and her hair’s shorter—Harry remembers seeing her on some magazine a few weeks ago, and her hair had been long and straight, falling down to her waist. Now it reaches just a little below her shoulders, framing her face. The way she holds herself up is a perfect combination of relaxed and confident, like she could take over the world without even lifting a finger, and Harry doesn’t really think that’s impossible.

“Mate, you might want to close your mouth,” Niall suddenly whispers into Harry’s ear, and Harry jumps a foot in the air, because where the hell did Niall even come from.

“What the fuck,” Harry hisses, a hand clutched to her chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Niall only looks amused and completely unapologetic. “You’re kinda staring a bit too creepily at Louis.” Harry opens her mouth, about to protest that no she was not, she was just having a look because duh Louis is a famous celebrity, who wouldn’t want to look at her, when Niall adds, “And she’s kinda been staring back, but a lot less creepily,” before chuckling and skipping off.

Harry turns her head so quickly her neck almost snaps. Louis Tomlinson is, indeed, looking at her, and god, Harry has to stop referring to Louis Tomlinson in her head by the full name.

She blushes, realizing that she’s been caught staring and that Louis is staring back. She’s about to maybe hide behind a clothes rack when Louis suddenly starts walking towards her, and Harry grabs onto the closest person’s arm in panic, which happens to be Sophia’s.

“Are you okay, Harry?” Sophia asks. “You look a little—oh my god, you’re Louis Tomlinson! Hi!”

Louis is now standing directly in front of Harry, smirking a little. She looks at Harry for a second longer before turning to Sophia. “Hello, darling. You were fabulous out there.”

Harry doesn’t need to look at Sophia to know that she’s blushing. “Thank you! Oh my gosh, I’m a big fan of yours. I’m Sophia Smith, by the way, and—”

Harry isn’t really sure why, but she cuts in, “Sophia, I think your girlfriend’s looking for you.”

Sophia snaps her mouth shut for a second, eyebrows furrowed. She looks at Harry curiously before glancing over her shoulder. “Um, no. Liam’s right there.”

Harry glances over her shoulder as well and sees Liam talking to one of the other models. “Yeah, and she’s talking to Danielle.”

Sophia nods slowly. “Yeah, she’s talking to Peazer—oh. Oh.” She blinks. “Excuse me for a moment, Harry, Louis.” She shoots Louis a smile before walking off, over to where Liam and Danielle are engaged in conversation.

Harry turns back to Louis, then. “Um.”

“What’s your name, babe?” Louis asks, straight to the point, and Harry flushes.

“Harry. My name’s Harry Styles.”

Louis nods, smirk still in place. “You’re not really a model, are you, love?”

Harry blushes even more at that. “Um, no. Perrie just asked me to be a replacement, because, um, one of her models had an injury. Uh, Eleanor Calder? She’s in the cheerleading team and they were maybe doing tosses, I don’t really know the specifics of cheerleading because obviously I’m not a cheerleader myself—I study philosophy, actually, but I’m not really that knowledgeable about it yet since I’m only a first year student but—” she quickly shuts her mouth once she realizes that she’s been rambling and that she’s gone far from the original topic. She’s probably making zero sense. “Sorry, I ramble sometimes. But, um, was my walk really that horrible?”

Louis only looks amused, but not exactly in a bad way. “I’m not an expert myself, love, but yeah, it was.” Before Harry can feel too miserable by that, Louis adds, “Don’t worry though, it was an endearing kind of horrible.” She winks, and Harry can feel the heat on her cheeks rising even more. “You’re a philosophy major, you say? That sounds… interesting.”

Harry shrugs, willing her face to cool down. “Yeah. It _is_ interesting. I’m not really sure I could make a lot of money out of it, but, um, analyzing the musings of dead people is a reward in itself for me, I guess.”

“Oh?” Louis asks, and she looks genuinely interested. “So what do you do? You read their stuff and talk about them?”

Harry nods. This, she can talk about without making a complete fool out of herself. “Yeah. Though we’ve only read some of the lighter stuff so far, like the works of a few less-known philosophers. The heavier readings won’t be till next year, though I’ve already done some advanced reading on Plato. We’ve also done a bit of comparison between Western and Eastern philosophical ideas, and we’ve tackled religion briefly. It’s all really interesting, but you’ve got to have the patience to read around twenty pages at the very least.” She stops, bites on her lip. “Feel free to stop me if I talk too much,” she adds in a murmur, smiling sheepishly.

Louis just shakes her head, though. “No, it’s fine. It’s quite nice to listen to people talking about the things they love.”

Harry smiles at that. “Really? Um, thank you, I guess.”

Louis smiles. “It’s a bit rare to find people who are actually studying things they’re into. Nowadays it’s all about which degree will earn you money after graduation, usually. Unless you already come from a rich family.”

Harry lets out a surprised bark of laughter at that, and she quickly slaps a hand over her mouth to cover it up. Louis smiles a bit wider.

Niall suddenly materializes beside Harry from out of nowhere once more, making Harry jump. Again. Niall really has to stop doing that. “Perrie’s having a little party at her flat. You in?”

Harry puts a hand to her chest, glaring at Niall half-heartedly. “Um. No. You know I don’t do parties, Niall.”

“Aw, even just this once?” Louis asks. “It’ll be fun.”

Harry shakes her head quickly. “I don’t really like parties, sorry.”

Louis looks like she’s genuinely disappointed, lips set in a pout. “Shame. Oh well, next time, then.” She pats Harry on the shoulder once before winking and turning around, heading back to Zayn.

Harry just blushes and stares after her, until Niall punches her on the arm.

“Ow! What the fuck, Niall?”

“You just turned Louis fucking Tomlinson down,” Niall hisses. “God, I knew you were a bit of an idiot, but not this much. She was obviously into you!”

“No, she was just being nice!” Harry whisper-shouts. “And besides, she’s basically a goddess. We are all mere mortals before her.”

Niall rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I’m going to the party.”

“Don’t forget to bring a key. I’m not getting up to open our door for you at three in the morning.”

-

Harry wakes up instead to a text at three in the morning.

_crashn at prries 2nyt ha also lou askd 4 ur no luvya h!!!!!!!!_

Harry blinks slowly as she reads over the text a second time, and then she’s shooting up in her bed when the message sinks in. She dials Niall’s number, having memorized it like her own, and she waits for six rings before Niall picks up.

“Did you give Louis Tomlinson my number?”

“No, she didn’t,” comes a voice that is most definitely not Niall’s.

Harry blinks. “Liam?”

“Hi, Harry.”

“Where’s Niall?”

There’s a bit of a rustle from the other end of the line, followed by some drunken hollering and muffled singing. “Wait a sec,” Liam says, and then there’s shuffling, heavy footsteps hitting the floor, and then sudden silence. “I moved into a room, couldn’t hear a thing out there.”

“Oh. You’re still partying?” Harry asks in disbelief. She glances at the digital clock on her bedside table. “It’s already 2.43 in the morning!”

Liam sighs, sounding a bit tired. “Yeah. But more than half of them are drunk. Niall’s belting out _Anaconda_ as we speak.”

Harry blinks. “But she just sent me a text—how does Niall even—nevermind.” She sighs. “I don’t understand how Niall can do, like, a thousand things at once.”

“I know. Like, after she sent you the text she just dropped her phone on a table and practically ran people over to get to the karaoke machine.”

Harry can practically hear Liam shrugging down the line. She just sighs again.

“But yeah, back to the topic. No, Niall didn’t give Louis Tomlinson your number,” Liam informs. “I mean, Louis asked if Niall had it, yeah, but she told Niall to text you first if it’s okay with you.”

“Oh,” Harry says. “Is Louis Tomlinson still there, then?”

“No,” Liam answers. “She and Zayn left two hours ago. Why? Did you want her to have your number?”

Harry blushes a little at that, turning over to her side and pulling her knees up to her chest. “Well. I’m not exactly opposed to the idea of her having my number.” She shakes her head to herself. “But it doesn’t matter now.”

“Hm. I’m pretty sure Niall has her number, though,” Liam says thoughtfully, and Harry can just imagine her tilting her head to one side and up, blinking at the ceiling in thought. It’s a habit Liam does when she’s thinking something through. “You can always get it from her.”

Harry thinks about it for a second, before deciding, “Nah. It’s fine.”

There’s a short pause, and then Liam’s saying, “Okay. Whatever you say, Harry.”

Harry nods, eyes drooping a little. It’s like now that the initial shock of Louis Tomlinson wanting her number has gone, her body’s reminding her of the time. She can’t help her yawn, loud and clear even through the phone, and she murmurs a sheepish, “Sorry, Li.”

“No, it’s fine. Go back to sleep, H,” Liam says, voice a mix of motherly and fond. “I’ll text you in the morning.”

“You’re the best, Li,” Harry murmurs, eyes already falling shut.

“Sleep tight, H.”

-

Niall doesn’t bring it up until a week later.

“Harry.”

Harry just grunts, not looking up from her light reading. She’s currently on Aristophanes’ eulogy and she’s kinda been immersed on all these takes on Eros since half an hour ago. Her tea’s probably gone cold, too. Niall has to understand that she’s busy.

“Harry, look at me.”

Harry furrows her brows, still not taking her eyes off the page. She twirls the highlighter in her hands, her fingers stained yellow, and marks the line _to be joined and fused with the one they love, to be one instead of two. And the reason for this is that originally that’s exactly how we were—whole beings._ It’s a nice line, and she needs to share it. “Niall. Did you know that in Plato’s _Symposium_ , one of the eulogies stated that humans used to be whole beings? Like, connected back to back and all that?”

When she looks up, Niall looks a bit unimpressed.

“What? It’s interesting,” she defends.

“Are you even listening to me?” Niall asks, rolling her eyes. “I have something to tell you.”

“But listen to this first—they weren’t strictly man-woman. They could be both men or both women, too,” Harry insists. “And people say heterosexuality is normal. Psh.”

Niall blinks, face changing. “Okay,” she allows, “that is pretty interesting.”

Harry nods eagerly. “And then Zeus apparently got scared since humans planned to overthrow the gods, or something. He didn’t want to completely wipe the human race, so he just decided to weaken them by splitting them in half.”

Niall looks genuinely interested now. “So, what? Is that like, the concept of soulmates, then?”

“It could be. I mean, listen to this. _‘Love is just the name we give to the desire for and pursuit of wholeness_ ’,” Harry reads. “It’s a nice thought, isn’t it? That there’s someone out there for you. Your other half.”

“You are such a romantic,” Niall teases. “But anyway, can I tell you about the thing I wanted to tell you now?”

Harry shrugs. “Okay.”

“We’re going to a party tomorrow.”

Harry frowns at that, sliding her readings off of her lap. She sits up on her bed and turns to face Niall, crossing her legs and frowning even more at the wide-eyed look Niall is already shooting her. “You know I don’t do parties.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t the kind of party I usually throw, mate,” Niall explains. “It’s fancier.”

Harry raises an eyebrow in question.

“It’s a party thrown by the fashion company Zayn usually models for,” Niall clarifies, “in celebration of something, I’m not sure what exactly.”

Harry blinks, confused. “You’ve been keeping in touch with Zayn Malik?”

It’s Niall’s turn to blink. “Yeah? Haven’t I told you that we’ve been texting?”

“Um, no.” Harry glares a little. “You’ve been texting a supermodel and you didn’t tell me?”

Niall looks a bit sheepish. “So I haven’t told you that we made out, too?”

“ _What_?” Harry asks, voice rising. “You made out with _Zayn Malik_?”

“Aaaaand, she might have fingered me against Perrie’s kitchen counter,” Niall adds, smiling sheepishly and cheeks flushing. Niall is rarely ever embarrassed about anything she does, and she’s certainly never been shy when it comes to telling Harry about her sex life (like that one time the blond hooked up with the dean’s daughter, Barbara Palvin, and related to Harry the morning after in great detail how she ate Barbara out in the dean’s office). So her being all blushy about it now can only mean one thing.

“You like her,” Harry says in wonder. “Like. You actually _like_ Zayn Malik.”

Niall shrugs, but her cheeks are still red. She’s so pale her blush would be obvious even from a mile away. “Yeah, I guess. But I mean, who doesn’t?”

“I don’t, at least not in that way,” Harry informs.

Niall snorts disbelievingly. “Yeah, right. Like you’ve never had a fantasy about her.”

“No really, I’ve never.”

Niall pauses for a second. Then, “Never ever?”

Harry shakes her head. “Never ever.”

“Huh.” Niall stares at her for another second, before shrugging. “But what about Louis? Have you ever had fantasies about her?”

“Are we actually discussing my wanking fantasies?” Harry asks, flushing just a little. “Because no, I’ve never had fantasies of anyone, ever.”

Niall frowns. “Do you even masturbate?”

“Of course I do,” Harry scoffs, though her cheeks are still tinged pink. “I just don’t have to think of anyone specific to get myself there. My fingers are usually more than enough.”

“That’s so boooooring,” Niall whines, wrinkling her nose. “You need to get laid.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You’re definitely coming to the party with me,” Niall decides, ignoring Harry’s protests. “We’ll find you someone. I think Louis will be there, too. She seemed interested, during the fashion show.”

“Niall, final exams are approaching,” Harry points out, motioning a hand at the books piled on her bed. “Don’t you think it’s maybe time you actually started to focus?”

Niall waves a hand, unconcerned. “My coursework and requirements aren’t as heavy as yours. Plus we still have three weeks to prepare, a little night out wouldn’t hurt.”

“I don’t have anything to wear,” Harry tries.

“Perrie’s got that covered.”

Harry opens her mouth to argue more, but Niall gives her another wide-eyed look. She snaps her mouth shut and stares back at Niall, and they have a silent argument for a few minutes, just staring at each other.

Finally, Harry’s shoulders slump and she sighs in defeat. “Okay. Fine.”

Niall whoops in victory.

-

Harry’s wearing a black dress that she insists is too short but Perrie says makes her legs look longer. “I don’t need to make my legs look longer, no one’s gonna be looking at me,” she had complained, but Perrie just waved her concerns away and made her tie her hair up into a ponytail. At least Perrie let her wear flat shoes.

There are a lot of people, some of them unfamiliar, but most of them important in one way or another. There are a few actors and actresses, a lot of models, and some designers who Harry only recognizes because of the fashion magazine she had occupied herself with earlier while Perrie was fixing her hair. She feels a bit out of place, but Niall and Perrie step into the mass of people confidently. Harry stumbles after them, keeping her head down the entire time.

It’s fifteen minutes later when she finds herself by the drinks table, having lost Perrie. Niall is standing by the other end of the table, talking to Zayn Malik and getting more and more comfortable as the drinks pour in. Niall’s probably on her fourth glass of what Harry thinks is champagne, and she’s pressed up against Zayn’s side as the model whispers in her ear, arm wrapped around her waist and making her giggle.

Harry stares down at her own drink and sighs. She really shouldn’t be here. She thinks about sneaking out and just catching a cab home, since they came here in Perrie’s sister’s car, and just sending Niall a text when someone clears their throat beside her, making her look up.

Louis Tomlinson smiles at her. “Hello, darling. Fancy seeing you here.”

Harry smiles a little. “Um, hi.” There goes her plan of sneaking out. Oh well. At least she doesn’t have to awkwardly stand here by herself anymore. “You remember me.”

“Of course I do, darling. Hard to forget someone like you. You’re pretty remarkable, you know?” Louis says, lifting an eyebrow and taking a step closer to Harry. She smells like expensive perfume and strong tea, and Harry can’t help but let her eyes take all of Louis in—she’s wearing a longer dress tonight, navy blue in color and tight around the waist, with a straight skirt that falls up to her feet. She looks elegant, like she’s some kind of royalty, and Harry feels a bit like a kid just being in the same breathing space as the actress.

“I doubt that,” Harry says, shrugging and glancing back down at her drink. She’s barely touched it, the glass still nearly full. “But thanks, I guess?”

Louis flashes her another smile. “You look lovely tonight.”

Harry flushes at that. “Perrie made me dress up.”

“Ah,” Louis nods, understanding. “I see. But you don’t really look that comfortable, though.”

Harry shrugs. “I’m not really used to getting dressed up. I mean, I like clothes, I guess, but clothes that also feel comfortable to wear.” She tugs on the skirt of her dress a bit self-consciously. “Personally, I think this skirt is too short.”

“Shows off your legs, though,” Louis comments.

Harry bites her lip. “Thanks.”

“So I’m assuming you came here with Niall?”

Harry nods, motioning at the pair. They’re even closer now, Zayn’s hands resting on Niall’s hip as the blond giggles into her neck. Harry looks back at Louis. “But as you can see, she’s abandoned me for Zayn.”

Louis laughs. “Yes, I can see that.”

Harry sighs loudly. “Why did she even make me come here. Even Perrie’s left me to myself.”

“Well,” Louis begins, spreading her arms slightly as though presenting herself, “if you haven’t noticed, I’m also by myself right now. And, I don’t know about you, but I think this party is a bit boring.”

Harry blinks at that, and she says, “You mean...”

Louis smirks. “Want to go on an adventure with me?”

-

Harry doesn’t know how, seeing as Louis is an award-winning actress known to almost everyone in the UK and even in the US, but they manage to sneak out of the party and into Louis’ personal car undetected. She guesses it’s because the party’s heavily-guarded, and the few paparazzi who have managed to get a pass are too busy taking pictures of the actual party going on inside.

The parking lot is empty of people, and Harry really feels like they’re going on an adventure. It sends a thrill through her, watching Louis put a finger up to her lips before sliding into the driver’s seat of her Porsche, motioning for Harry to follow her in.

“I always thought celebrities go to events in their limos,” she muses, running her hand gingerly over the backrest of her seat.

“I did come here in a limo, but it was Zayn’s. I had someone bring my car over since I’m quite known for sneaking out of parties early.” She winks. “But if you want I can give you a ride in my own limo next time.”

Next time.

Harry doesn’t say anything in response, just watches Louis start the car. Her hair’s loose now, falling out of the small bun it was tied up in earlier, but Harry thinks she looks as beautiful as ever like this. Possibly even more.

“Turn the music on, will you, love?” Louis says, and Harry does, pushing at buttons randomly until Icona Pop blasts through the speakers. Harry jumps a little in her seat but she finds herself giggling along with Louis as they sing purposely off-key with the song, _We’re just living life and we never stop, we got the world_.

Louis starts driving, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel in time to the song. The windows are rolled down, and Harry gets the urge to stick her head out of it and feel the wind against her face, let her hair get blown back as they drive past the few streetlights.

She isn’t really sure where they’re going, but she doesn’t ask. Louis keeps on driving, aimlessly it seems, until they start to see the buildings of the city, the lights bright and almost harsh against Harry’s eyes after driving along an empty road for minutes, maybe even hours, with nothing but a few streetlights and the glow of the moon guiding them. It’s just them and the music, _We got a fire starting, I won’t hesitate even if I go down in flames, so light me up._ Harry feels alive.

Louis grins at her, and Harry finds herself grinning back. She’s not sure what she’s doing here, because this isn’t like her, really, but. Here she is, anyway, out at some unknown hour in the early morning, driving around with a famous actress who is looking at her like she’s something else.

They end up going for some Burger King, and Harry can’t stop giggling into the back of her hand as the employee handing over their order at the drive-through stammers, face flushed and obviously flustered over seeing a celebrity. Louis winks and blows him a kiss, and the employee looks like he’s about to pass out as he shakily hands over a paper napkin for Louis to sign.

“Didn’t know celebrities eat fastfood,” Harry comments, scooping up some of her sundae and eyeing the pile of burgers they’ve bought. She thinks Louis might have ordered one of each kind.

Louis shrugs, throwing a fry into her mouth before biting into a chicken burger. “Fastfood is unhealthy, yeah, but I allow myself to enjoy it sometimes. Plus, you get sick of all the healthy food they make you eat.” She thumbs at the corner of her mouth, wiping away some mayo before sucking it into her mouth. Harry stares and feels herself swallow. “But next time I’m taking you to somewhere fancier.”

Harry blinks at that, shaking herself out of her thoughts that are beginning to wander into inappropriate territory. There it is again. _Next time_. “Yeah, okay,” she allows, twirling her spoon into her ice cream and watching the chocolate syrup mix with the vanilla.

They talk for the next hour, exchanging small bits of information about themselves. Harry tells stories from her experience at uni so far, tells Louis of her scholarship and her mum and sister. It’s a bit odd, seeing as they’re sitting in the backseat of Louis’ car at an empty parking lot of a convenient store still in their party dresses, with around half a dozen more burgers still in their wrappers sitting in the front seat, but Harry finds herself getting more and more comfortable as the minutes tick by.

She’s cut off in the middle of a story about how she once found Niall sleeping in the hallway, three doors down from their flat at five in the morning, when she feels a hand on her thigh. She snaps her mouth shut and stares at Louis, then at the hand on her thigh, then back up at Louis’ face.

It’s dark still, too early for the sun to be up, but Harry can just make out the lines of Louis’ face, the way she’s looking at her, blue eyes a bit darker. Harry shouldn’t really be surprised because she’s felt it, felt the tension in the air between them from the moment Louis asked her to come on an adventure with her, but she thought it had been mostly one-sided. She never really thought that Louis would actually want her back.

But here they are.

Harry nods once, just a small movement of her head, but Louis catches it. Harry barely manages to suck in a breath before Louis is kissing her, slowly at first, like she’s testing it out. Harry makes a soft noise almost immediately because Niall was right—it had been too long since Harry’s been physically intimate with anyone, and just the simple touch of lips against hers is making her skin buzz.

And maybe this isn’t intimate, maybe this is just going to be a one-off, but Harry’s body is too eager to feel so she just lets her mind shut down, lets herself abandon all thought except for the feeling of Louis’ hands on her body. She lets herself get pressed against the car window, legs spread on either side of Louis. The skirt of her dress hikes further up her legs as she bends her knees, and Louis’ hands are on her thighs almost immediately, pushing her skirt further up until it’s bunched around her waist.

“Is this okay?” Louis asks against her mouth, panting slightly as she runs her fingers along the strip of skin by the waist of Harry’s panties. Harry can only nod, not trusting herself to really speak right now, but that’s all the confirmation Louis needs because she’s tugging Harry’s panties down her legs in record time, only struggling a little with getting it off one leg and leaving it around Harry’s right ankle.

She shifts back against the seat, laying down on her front as much as she can in the tight space, and that’s all the warning Harry gets before Louis’ mouth is on her. Gasping, Harry’s thighs spread further apart on instinct, and her back arches slightly as Louis licks over her. It’s been too long, really, since she’s had someone else touch her. Months, maybe a year, even. Ever since she started university she’s been too focused on getting good marks so she won’t lose her scholarship, so she’s had to give almost everything else up.

So that’s why right now, her body’s responding too quickly. Her heart is racing in her chest, sweat pooling at the back of her neck and dripping down her temples. Her chest is heaving, thighs trembling slightly as Louis works her tongue over her sinfully, making her come undone with clever strokes and teasing flicks.

She nearly screams when Louis’ lips close around her clit, sucking for a short, blissful second before she’s dipping her head lower once more and teasing her tongue in just slightly. She’s got her fingers joined in the mix now, one thumb circling Harry’s clit while the other spreads her open a bit.

Harry tips her head back against the car window and squeezes her eyes shut, whimpers falling out of her lips uncontrollably. Her hips buck up when Louis edges a finger in, licking more insistently around where her finger disappears inside Harry. Harry knows she’s wet, can feel herself dripping slightly, and it makes her cheeks flush even more. She feels hot, the fabric of her dress clinging to her skin almost unpleasantly, but she’s too focused on the feeling of Louis eating her out to care at the moment.

“Fuck, Louis,” she whines, hips stuttering. She’s nearing the edge, can feel the heat twisting in her belly, and she tugs on Louis’ hair in warning. “Close.”

Louis just presses her face further in response, licks deeper and slips a second finger beside the first, scissoring them slightly. Harry lets out a loud moan as her thighs clench, closing around Louis’ head. She arches away from the car window as her hips stutter, her toes curling inside her flat shoes and her fingers tugging harshly at Louis’ hair. Louis doesn’t complain, though, just slows down the movements of her tongue as Harry’s thighs fall open again.

Harry tries to catch her breath as Louis gets back up, licking her lips and grinning. “You taste good.”

Harry isn’t sure how, seeing as she’s just had the most intense orgasm in a while, but she manages to roll her eyes and bat at Louis’ shoulder. “Shut up.”

Louis chuckles, leaning forward and connecting their lips. Harry moans at the taste of herself on someone else’s tongue, and she subconsciously tugs Louis closer.

Louis goes with her easily, lifting one leg over Harry’s so that she’s straddling the younger girl’s thigh. Harry tugs on the skirt of Louis’ own dress and Louis bats her hands away. Before Harry can ask, Louis rips her skirt open and Harry’s eyes widen, her jaw dropping.

Louis lifts an eyebrow at her expression. “It was getting in the way.”

“How expensive is that dress?” Harry asks, still gaping.

Louis just shrugs. “A few thousand pounds, it doesn’t matter.” She nips at Harry’s ear, blowing hot breath over the skin and making Harry shiver. “I’m horny and I want to ride your thigh.”

Harry feels another stab of arousal go through her at that. She groans, and they struggle for a minute trying to tug Louis’ panties off. Once it’s out of the way, Louis wastes no time grinding her bare pussy down against Harry’s thigh, moaning as she does.

She’s almost dripping, too. Harry can feel it, hot and wet, as Louis grinds down against her more. Louis’ letting out these small moans, mouth open and head tipped back slightly as she moves her hips, and she looks so hot, so fucking gorgeous still. Harry’s getting turned on all over again, and she sneaks a hand down between her own legs so she can rub over her clit with her thumb.

“Fuck,” Louis moans, staring down at where Harry is touching herself. Harry flushes a little and her thumb falters, but then Louis’ batting her hand away and moving closer, before lifting one of Harry’s thighs over her hip and grinding forward. Harry chokes as her hips stutter against Louis’, and Louis grins, leaning forward to flick her tongue against Harry’s lips. “You like that?”

Harry nods quickly, hips beginning to move in rhythm with Louis’. Her breath comes out quicker, and she faintly notices the windows of the car fogging up. Sweat drips down her back, her dress clinging to her skin even more, and she clutches onto Louis’ shoulders, her nails biting at the skin. Louis’ gripping onto her hips as she rocks forward, chasing her own release, and Harry yelps in surprise when one of Louis’ hands slide between them to tease at her clit.

“Lou-Louis,” she whines. Louis kisses her, then, smudging her lipstick even more.

She comes when Louis teases her fingers back in, before slipping back up to rub her wet fingertips over Harry’s clit. Harry’s body arches into Louis, a loud moan slipping out of her lips and her eyes falling shut. She can hear Louis talking her through it, murmuring into her ear. She can’t really make out any of the words but the sound of Louis’ voice is soothing enough as she catches her breath and comes down from her second orgasm.

When she opens her eyes, she sees Louis watching her, blue eyes bright. She blinks. “Um, uh. Did you?”

“Yeah,” Louis whispers, before kissing Harry once more, slower. “You look really lovely when you come.”

Harry blushes, batting weakly at Louis’ shoulder. “I do not.”

Louis just kisses her again, giggling. “You are. Now hush.”

They’re quiet for a moment, exchanging short, lazy kisses as their breathing calms down. Eventually, though, the tangle of their limbs becomes too uncomfortable and Harry starts squirming underneath Louis’ weight.

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Louis chuckles, pulling away. “Your make-up’s ruined now, I’m sorry.”

Harry waves it away, her mind now catching up to her. She’s just had sex with an award-winning actress, who is also nine years older than her, in the backseat of a car probably worth more than all four years of Harry’s university education. Not to mention they’re out in the open for anyone to see. Okay.

“I can’t believe you ripped your dress,” she says after a while.

Louis just shrugs. “It’s not like I’m gonna wear this again.”

Harry manages to roll her eyes at that. “Rich people,” she mutters, feeling a lot like the main character from that one anime Niall forced her to watch a few years ago. She can’t really remember what it was about, exactly, but there were six rich guys and a cross-dressing girl in a host club and it was all very weird. Harry should never trust Niall ever again.

Louis grins, leaning forward for another kiss and snapping Harry out of her thoughts. She thinks about her dress and how she’s going to explain the state it’s currently in when she returns it to Perrie, but then Louis’ tugging her closer once more, and Harry thinks she’ll just have to deal with it later.

-

By some miracle, Louis manages to drop Harry off at her flat before the sun fully rises and without anyone seeing them.

Harry also falls face-first on her bed with a new number in her phone.

-

“So, you fucked in the backseat of her car?”

Harry scowls, shoving her laptop aside. Her essay on the essence of education can wait a few minutes. “For the last time, yes. But I also mentioned something about driving aimlessly and stopping for—”

“You had sex with Louis Tomlinson, in her car,” Niall says in wonder, cutting Harry off. “That’s like, pretty incredible, mate.”

Harry groans, frustrated. “Yeah, it was incredible, but that’s not all, Ni.”

“You really let loose the other night, didn’t you?”

“ _Niall_ ,” Harry says, firm. “I think I might have a crush on Louis Tomlinson.”

That shuts Niall up. For about three seconds. “Who doesn’t?”

Harry glares. “No, I mean. Yeah, okay, she’s kinda like Natalie Dormer, everyone likes her. _But_. I don’t know, I kinda saw what she was like as a person as well.” She shrugs, biting on her lower lip for a moment. “She’s pretty amazing.”

“Ooh.” Niall waggles her eyebrows ridiculously. “You have a crush _crush_ on her.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?”

“You know. _Like_ like.”

Harry stares at Niall for a second, unimpressed, before rolling her eyes. “Anyway, we’ve been texting since yesterday and she’s asking me out.”

“Oooh,” Niall scoots a bit closer to Harry on the couch, looking very interested, “asking you out where?”

Harry shrugs. “I don’t know. She said it’d be a surprise.”

“Did you say yes?”

Harry bites on her lip for a second, avoiding Niall’s eyes. “I said I’d think about it.”

The scowl is clear in Niall’s voice when she says, “You idiot. If you like her, then I don’t think you should be playing hard to get.”

“Excuse me,” Harry says, affronted, “I am not playing hard to get. You may have forgotten, but we have final exams coming up and I am on a scholarship.”

“It’s just another day off, Harry,” Niall points out. “And besides, you look a bit brighter right now. I think it’d be good for you to let loose just one more time before you drown yourself in exams.”

“That’s what you said when you asked me to come to Zayn Malik’s party with you, and the moment you found Zayn you abandoned me,” Harry says.

“Hey now, Louis found you, anyway,” Niall argues, “and I don’t think she would’ve asked you to”—air quotes—“‘go on an adventure’ with her had I been with you at that time.”

Harry thinks about it for a moment. If she’s going to be honest, she really wants to say yes to Louis and see where this—this _thing_ will lead to. But she also has her scholarship to worry about. She needs to get good results.

She glances at her laptop, where a half-finished essay on the essence of education waits. She also has a short unedited essay discussing the importance of Johannes Guttenberg’s invention of the printing press to reread, and she silently curses the day she let Liam convince her to take a course on the history of the press as an elective. Her textbooks lie open on the coffee table, waiting, along with printed copies of the readings her professors have emailed a few weeks ago. She’s only gone through about a third of them, and she really does need to study, but.

“Just another night wouldn’t hurt, I guess,” she eventually decides, sighing in defeat.

Niall whoops beside her, clapping her on the back. “Go on, then. Text Louis.”

Harry frowns, but reaches for her phone, anyway. “Okay, okay. But if I lose my scholarship you’re paying my tuition for the next three years.”

Niall waves a hand, unconcerned. “I’m sure Louis can cover that. Hey, she can be your sugar mama, or something.”

Harry just whacks her friend on the head.

-

“I can’t keep seeing you,” is most probably not an acceptable way to start a conversation.

Louis seems to think so, too, if her raised eyebrows are anything to go by. “Well, what a way to break my heart, Harry Styles.”

Harry flushes, ducking her head and sliding into the chair across from Louis. They’re at some café-restaurant, the name of the place something Harry can’t pronounce. It seems like a place only the rich and famous occupy, and Harry barely managed to stutter her name out when the girl out front asked if she had any reservations. Harry didn’t even know cafés also had reservations.

“No, it’s not, I’m not turning you down,” Harry clarifies, glancing up at Louis, “whatever this thing between us is, I mean. I’d definitely like to keep seeing you, but we can’t for the next two weeks since I have exams coming up. That is, assuming that you’d still want to see me by then, or something.”

Louis brightens up at that. “Oh. Okay then, of course. Exams are important, I understand. Plus you have that scholarship of yours, so you have a grade to maintain, correct?”

Harry nods, feeling pleased that Louis remembered that. “Yeah.”

Louis smiles kindly. “Well if you’d rather be studying now, just tell me, love. I was planning on taking you somewhere after some tea, but we can reschedule to another day if you want?”

Harry shakes her head quickly. “No, it’s fine. I wanted to give myself one final day before I drown in all of my requirements.”

“Ah,” Louis nods, flashing Harry another smile, one that makes her eyes crinkle by the corners. “Very well, then. Now, what would you be having, love?”

A waiter comes by, then, as if on cue, placing a menu in front of Harry. He moves to give Louis one, as well, but the actress just raises her hand and says, “No need, Andy. I’ll just be having the usual.”

The waiter—Andy, apparently—nods once, smiling politely as he takes a step back. Louis flashes him a quick smile and a wink, before he disappears to wherever it is waiters go to. Harry watches the exchange curiously.

Louis catches her look and explains, “Zayn’s mum owns this place, so I pretty much know the people working here.”

Harry’s eyes widen in understanding. “Oh.”

“It’s nice here. A bit secluded, too. Paps never catch me in here, so if I want to have some peace this is my go-to place,” Louis adds. “It’s also pretty convenient for meet-ups. Not that I’d mind getting papped with you, because honestly, nothing the media say can affect me at this point. But I wouldn’t want to throw you into that.”

Harry’s chest flutters a little at that. “Thank you.”

Louis smiles. “Order something, love.”

Harry nods once, hesitantly taking the menu. She flips through it and tries her hardest not to openly gawk at the prices. In the end she settles for some coffee and a slice of apple pie, which are the cheapest things she can find in the entire menu that she can actually pay for. She’s not dumb—she knows Louis will pay for everything, will even insist if Harry refuses, but it comforts her knowing that she can still pay for herself.

“So, I hope you didn’t have too much trouble getting here?” Louis asks as they wait for their food, leaning back on her chair and crossing one leg over the other. She’s wearing simpler clothes today, tight white jeans and a black sweater that accentuates the shape of her upper body, her hair carelessly half-up, but she still looks like royalty. Harry feels a bit like a kid in her white crop top, floral skirt, and denim jacket, her hair pushed back from her face by a scarf made of the same fabric as her skirt.

Louis seems to think differently, though. “You look gorgeous, by the way.”

Harry flushes, shrugging the compliment off and instead focusing on Louis’ question. “I didn’t have any trouble getting here, not at all. Josh was perfectly polite.” She still can’t believe Louis had arranged for a car to pick her up.

Louis nods, satisfied. “Good.”

Their food arrives shortly, and, like a few nights ago when they had been eating Burger King in the backseat of Louis’ Porsche, they exchange stories. It’s nice, getting to know Louis beyond the big screen, and Harry finds herself ignoring her food the more Louis gets into how she ended up in the acting industry.

“I was taking up drama, yeah, but I dropped in my final year because I was shite at academics. I didn’t want to study anything, I just really wanted to act. So I was failing some of my classes, and I found myself skipping more and more of them so I could go around auditioning for community plays. None of them would accept an undergraduate, though.” Louis shrugs, taking a sip from her tea. “That is, until one of them did. So I decided then to stop. I dropped out of school, packed my bags, and started over. I was in community theatre for about a year before I decided to go further, auditioned for television. I was twenty-two.”

Harry nods, focused entirely on Louis. She knows some of this, of course, has read and seen an interview or two, but hearing it coming from Louis Tomlinson herself is a different experience, somehow.

“And I got in. I took it slowly from then on, until the offer for my first movie came and, well,” she shrugs, “you know, the rest just happened and now here I am.”

“Wow,” Harry says. “But, when did you decide to come out?”

Louis thinks about it for a moment. “You know, I didn’t really think I came out, because I was never in the closet to begin with. I mean, when I was starting I didn’t officially inform anyone of my sexuality, yeah, but I didn’t deny anything, either. I remember having one of my publicists suggest getting me a boyfriend, or at least having me seen going out with a few male celebrities to get rumors going, but I refused. I told them from the start that I would not be closeted. And then I met Zayn at a photoshoot, and, well. I guess you know what happened next.”

Harry nods once, slowly, eyes wide. “You’re so brave, though.”

Louis shakes her head a few times. “I’m not really, no. I just refused to be controlled.”

Harry smiles, slowly. “That’s still really admirable, though.”

Louis leans forward, smiling as well. “No, you know what’s admirable?”

“What?”

Louis points a finger at her. “You, Harry Styles. You’re admirable. You’re majoring in philosophy because that’s what your passion is, and you’re not letting other people who, I assume, tell you that that degree will take you nowhere stop you from doing what you like. And I admire that.”

Harry flushes, biting her lip to stop herself from smiling too much.

“When I was in uni, I met a lot of people who were taking a degree in engineering and other science courses because it’d be a sure way to earn once they graduate. Their words, not mine. I mean, I’m not against engineering majors, or anything, but it’s rare to find people nowadays who are actually into the major they’re taking.” Louis looks at her, then, blue eyes bright and smile genuine, “So yes, that’s why you’re admirable, Harry.”

Harry couldn’t stop herself from smiling even if she tried. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes probably as bright as Louis’ are right now. “Thank you, that. That really means a lot. People are always asking me what I’m planning to do with myself once I graduate, and to be honest, I don’t really know the answer to that, myself. I just know that I’m enjoying what I’m doing right now, but people always tend to bring me down, telling me that I’m just wasting my time.” She glances down at her lap, fingers playing with the hem of her skirt. “So hearing someone say that I’m doing the right thing by following my heart, I just. I appreciate it so much.”

Louis has a fond look on her face when Harry glances up at her, and Harry feels pleasantly warm, cheeks burning even more. “Don’t ever let anyone bring you down, love.”

Harry smiles, nodding. “I won’t.”

-

Harry presses her face into Louis’ shoulder, biting on her lip to try and stifle her giggles. Louis shushes her, bringing one finger up to her lips, but Harry can see that the actress is also grinning, the corners of her lips quirked up. Harry is pretty sure that Louis’ eyes are crinkling at the corners behind her aviators.

They hear voices nearby and they press themselves further behind one of the cylindrical jellyfish glass tanks, thankful that this particular part of the aquarium is dark. The lights are coming from inside the aquarium themselves, changing color every few seconds, slowly fading from blue to green to red. Inside the tanks the jellyfish float in the water lazily, and Harry watches for a moment, fascinated, resisting the urge to press her nose up against the glass.

“I could’ve sworn I saw Louis Tomlinson go in here!” one of the voices say, and Harry’s reminded of why they’re here in the first place. She presses her fist against her mouth, giggling into her knuckles, and Louis tugs her closer with an arm around her waist.

“Are you sure it was her? Maybe it was just someone who looked like her?” a different voice asks.

“Yeah, I mean. The lighting in this place is a bit dim,” another pipes in.

“Nooo, I swear it was her!” the first voice insists. “Cynthia, help me out here. You saw her, too, right?”

Cynthia, apparently, sounds a bit more hesitant. “Well, yeah. I mean, it looked like her, but I didn’t really get a proper look at her face.”

Harry feels Louis tug on her waist, and when she turns her head she sees that Louis’ got her aviators pushed up to her hair. She’s jerking her head behind her, grin still in place, and Harry nods, slowly straightening up from her slightly-crouched position. They walk around the room carefully, mindful of the group of teenagers hunting Louis down. The one who’s seen Louis remains stubborn, insisting that she indeed saw the actress by the penguins exhibit. They’ve got their backs turned and Louis takes Harry’s hand—making Harry’s heart stutter over a beat—before they’re slipping out of the jellyfish room.

They break into a run, and they stop once they get into a different exhibit, this one of stingrays and small sharks and other weird fish that Harry has no name for. They let out breathless giggles as they clutch onto each other, Louis’ eyes crinkling so much the blue in them vanish for a moment as a wonderful sound slips past her lips. “Oh god, that was insane.”

Harry rolls her eyes. “You said this place was safe.”

“It is!” Louis insists, lowering her voice immediately when she hears voices approaching the room. “I mean, families are usually the only people who visit this place, I swear. Teenagers don’t usually come here—well, except today, ha.”

A family of five comes in just as Louis finishes talking, and Harry glances over at them. The mother smiles politely at them while the father eagerly points out the sea creatures to his two sons and one daughter, naming them one by one. Harry smiles at the sight before turning her gaze back to Louis. “You don’t seem like the type to just hang out in aquariums, though.”

Louis shrugs. “It’s quiet here. Helps me think, sometimes.” She grins, placing her hands on Harry’s shoulders and spinning her around. “Now, look up.”

Harry does, and she gasps. “Oh, wow.”

She’s not sure how she’s only noticed now, but the ceiling is, well. It’s technically the bottom of an aquarium. Harry can see the rippling water through the thick glass as stingrays move around, their mouths opening and closing. There’s probably a light somewhere above the aquarium, illuminated in the waters and making Harry squint slightly as she continues to watch the creatures swim around.

She feels Louis move closer, breath tickling the skin of her ear. “Pretty cool, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathes out, spinning around so she’s facing the actress once more. Louis looks beautiful in the dim lighting of the room, hair now out of its half-updo and lipstick slightly smudged at the corners. Her clothes are slightly rumpled from all the running and she’s still catching her breath a little, lips slightly parted as soft breaths slip past them. Harry wants to kiss her.

Glancing around her briefly, she spots the family of five still there, watching the small sharks in one of the glass tanks that make up an entire wall of the room. There’s a couple as well, taking selfies by the sign at the entrance of the exhibit indicating what kind of creatures can be found in this room, and in one corner is a small group of children surrounding a woman, most probably elementary students out on a trip.

Harry looks back at Louis and finds the actress already looking back at her. Louis looks a bit curious, but also like she knows what Harry is thinking of right now. Like she’s just waiting for Harry to decide. Biting her lip, Harry thinks about it for all of a second before her mind’s made up and she leans in, pressing a quick yet soft kiss against the corner of Louis’ mouth.

Louis is smiling when she pulls back, and Harry can feel the flush rising on her cheeks. “You’re a sweet one, aren’t you?”

Harry shrugs, feeling shy all of a sudden. “Thanks for today,” she decides on saying.

Louis grabs one of her hands, bringing it up to her lips so she can brush a kiss against Harry’s knuckles. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

-

The next two weeks pass by in a haze of exams, and by the time Harry hands in her final exam for the term she’s just about ready to sleep for an entire year. She falls down face-first on the couch of her and Niall’s flat, and she’s already halfway to falling asleep when her phone buzzes in her pocket.

Groaning, she checks it and finds a text from Louis.

_exams done?_

Despite her exhaustion, Harry finds herself grinning at the text. _yeah. im still alive yay. but no more socrates for me until the start of next term, my brains fried xx_

The reply comes less than a minute later. _aw love. want to go out tmr?_

Harry bites her lip, thinking about it for a moment. Before she can come up with a reply, though, another text comes in. _have another week off before we go back to filming, thought i should enjoy it x_

Harry flushes at that, at the implication that Louis enjoys spending time with her. She can’t help the part of her that asks, _Why me? I’m just a student_ , but it’s quickly silenced by the memories of driving aimlessly at one in the morning before stopping for some fastfood, and stealing quick kisses while watching bright and colorful fish swim by. She smiles, texts back, _id love to xx_

-

Harry should’ve seen it coming, really. After all, no matter how much they’ve been texting recently that it’s starting to seem like Louis’ just an ordinary person, she’s still Louis Tomlinson, young and successful and very, _very_ rich.

“Louis, I’m not sure if—”

“This would look great on you, too,” Louis says, ignoring Harry and dumping another sweater on top of the growing pile of clothes hanging off of Harry’s arm. Harry doesn’t want to admit it but Louis is probably right—the sweater is soft and a creamy color, the fabric thick and looking like it’s been meticulously hand-stitched. It’d really look good on her.

Still, this is all too much.

“Louis, this is too much,” Harry says, voicing her thoughts out loud.

Louis just waves a hand. “Consider it a gift for making it through final exams.”

Harry frowns. She can feel other people in the store looking at them, whispering at each other. She flushes and hides her face behind the mountain of clothes she’s carrying, letting Louis drag her around the store, trying to ignore the fact that people are talking about them—well, talking about Louis Tomlinson and the girl she’s shopping with, more specifically. Harry just takes comfort in the knowledge that none of them seem to be taking any pictures. Thank god Forever 21 doesn’t allow any form of picture-taking within their store.

Three sheer tops and a long floral skirt later, Harry finds herself with Louis in one of the changing rooms. Louis takes a seat on the bench, right beside where Harry dumped the mountain of clothes Louis’ making her try out. There’s a large mirror covering up the entire wall across from the bench, and Harry flushes as she stands in the middle of the room, unsure.

“Um.”

“Go on, try these on,” Louis urges, picking up a dress from the top of the pile. It’s light pink and sleeveless, and Harry imagines the short skirt fluttering around her as she moves. She thinks it’ll look nice with that white jacket Louis also picked out for her.

But.

“Um, you’re just gonna stay here?” Harry asks, cheeks flaming.

Louis lifts an eyebrow, smirking. “Yes.”

Harry blinks, before sighing and unbuttoning her plaid shirt the rest of the way. She shrugs it off, very much aware of Louis watching her, and she bites her lip, hesitating for all of a second before she’s tugging her tee off as well. She stands there in just her bright yellow bra and denim shorts, cheeks hot as she reaches for the dress and slips it on.

Louis doesn’t say anything at first, eyes taking Harry in. Harry does a little spin and catches sight of herself in the mirror. She looks cute, if Harry’s going to be honest.

“You look lovely in that,” Louis finally comments after a while, getting up to stand behind Harry.

Harry giggles a bit nervously. “You say that all the time, though.”

“That’s because everything looks lovely on you,” Louis says back easily. “You’re lovely all the time.” She stops behind Harry, and Harry watches in the mirror as Louis gently takes hold of her waist.

And, honestly, Harry can’t really be blamed for what happens next.

The clothes end up on the floor, the pink dress on top of the pile along with the denim shorts Harry was wearing. Biting her lip to keep back a groan, Harry tips her head back against the wall as Louis moves between her legs with clever lips and tongue and fingers.

She can hear movement outside, and she’s glad that the door is actually a door with a lock and not some flimsy curtain. No one’s knocking on the door yet, shoppers probably occupying the five other changing rooms available. Still, anyone could come looking for them any second—some of the staff seemed pretty keen on asking Louis for an autograph earlier.

The thought of getting caught sends a thrill through Harry, a mix of nerves and excitement making her gasp quietly. Her thighs spread further apart unconsciously, hands tugging urgently at Louis’ hair. “Lou—Lou, god.”

Louis glances up at her, smirking, two fingers twisting inside of Harry. Her lipstick’s ruined, blood red smudged around her mouth, and the sight of her on her knees makes heat twist in Harry’s gut.

Louis brings a finger to her lips, silently telling her to keep quiet, and Harry nods frantically, chewing on her lower lip to keep her noises in. Louis presses a kiss to her thigh, leaving a red print there, before she dives right back in, working her tongue over Harry more enthusiastically.

It takes all of Harry’s control not to scream out, her back arching as Louis sucks at her clit, fingers rubbing insistently along her walls. She catches sight of herself in the mirror across from them, her hair out of its ponytail, falling down in waves all over her shoulders, her eyes wide and wild, her bare chest rising and falling with each heavy breath she takes. She’s got her fingers twisted painfully in Louis’ hair, tugging hard enough for it to probably hurt, but what makes her tumble over the edge is the sight of Louis on her knees, hands firm on Harry’s thighs and keeping her spread open.

It only takes Louis licking into her one final time before humming against her pussy and Harry’s gone, gasping quietly with her mouth wide open as Louis licks her through her orgasm, flicking the tip of her tongue against her clit.

They end up buying all of the clothes, and Harry can’t stop fidgeting as the cashier gives her a look that seems to say she knows what happened. Harry doesn’t really blame her—she knows her cheeks are flushed, her eyes slightly glassy, and her hair’s been messily done back up into a ponytail, clothes hastily thrown on.

Louis looks unfazed, though, thanking the woman as she hands over the seven paper bags that contain all of Harry’s new clothes. They step out of the store standing close, and Harry’s finger twitches by her side, itching to tangle with Louis’ own.

She stops herself, though, because she catches sight of a few people watching them from across the street just before a camera flash goes off.

-

“They keep on calling you ‘Mystery Girl’,” Liam says, nose buried in between the pages of a magazine.

Harry just groans in response.

It’s been three weeks since Louis started filming for her new movie, and they’ve been seeing each other less and less as the days go by. They still go out at least once a week, but Louis’ getting busier, and Harry understands that. Besides, it’s not like they’ve stopped texting. Louis still finds the time to send her silly messages everyday, sometimes accompanied with a selfie.

“The good news is, no one’s found out who you are yet,” Liam adds, flipping to the next page.

Niall comes out of her room, then, phone to her ear and a smile on her face. She barely gives Liam and Harry a ‘hello’ before she’s heading into the kitchen, the sound of her laughter loud and bright throughout the flat. Liam gives Harry a puzzled look, and Harry shrugs just as they hear Niall say, “Yeah, yeah—go back to filming already, silly. This is your first movie, so focus.”

Liam looks a mixture of confused and disbelieving. Harry understands why—Niall ever rarely tells anyone to focus, since she’s always the one telling them to loosen up and live a little.

“That Zayn?” Harry asks when Niall walks into the living room, holding a bottle of beer.

Niall blushes just slightly as she hops over the back of the sofa, landing beside Harry with an ‘oof.’ “Yeah.”

Harry nods once. “She’s in this movie with Louis, right?”

“Yep. It’s her first movie and she’s pretty excited,” Niall says, smiling to herself, small and fond. Harry is pretty sure Niall isn’t aware of the expression on her face, and it’s a bit surprising, seeing Niall actually into someone.

“Wait, so you’re actually seeing Zayn Malik?” Liam asks, blinking. She turns to Harry next. “Wow, how did you girls manage to catch celebrities?”

“Why, are you not satisfied with your girlfriend, Liam?”

Liam scowls at them. “Don’t say that. I like Sophia a lot, okay?”

“Ooh,” Niall teases, fluttering her eyelashes at Liam. “Did you two say the L-word yet?”

Liam blushes. “Not yet, but we’re getting there.”

Harry’s phone rings with an incoming call, then, Marina Diamandis’ voice drifting through the flat and making Harry jump in surprise. She turns to give Niall an accusatory look. “Did you change my ringtone?”

Niall blinks innocently, pressing the rim of her beer bottle to her lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I specifically remember setting _Secrets_ as my ringtone just last week, why is it _Bubblegum Bitch_ now?” Harry’s eyes narrow. “How did you even know my password?”

Niall just blinks again, the picture of innocence.

“Um, Harry,” Liam says, “your phone’s still ringing.”

“It’s probably Louis,” Harry says picking her phone up and unlocking the screen. Her eyes widen slightly when she sees the caller ID, and she scrambles up from her seat, muttering an excuse as she stumbles into her room and shuts the door behind her. She finally picks up and breathes out, “Uh, hi?”

“Now, I may not be as updated with the popular culture as those younger than me by years are, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have access to magazines, love,” a voice tuts, and Harry laughs nervously. “I was out getting groceries earlier when I saw my baby’s face on the cover of one of the magazines by the rack near the cash registers. Imagine my surprise.”

“Sorry, mum,” Harry murmurs sheepishly. Of course her mum will find out. “If it’s worth anything, I was planning on telling you?”

“Mm-hmm,” Anne hums.

“Honest. It just slipped my mind,” Harry insists, though she knows Anne believes her, and that she’s not really mad. Just surprised that her daughter is apparently dating an A-lister, and she’s had to find out through a bloody magazine.

“I didn’t know you’re friends with Louis Tomlinson?”

“Uh, yeah, about that.” Harry sits down by the foot of her bed and pulls her knees up to her chest. “We met at the fashion thingy I did for a friend? She was there with Zayn Malik, you know, the model?”

“Ah,” Anne says, probably in recognition, “that gorgeous young lady who judged _Britain’s Next Top Model_ for a cycle?”

“Yeah, her.”

Anne hums again, and it’s silent for a moment, before she’s asking, “So, are you and Louis Tomlinson…”

“We’re dating, I guess?” Harry shrugs. “I mean, we’ve been going out, but we haven’t really talked about anything.”

“Dear,” Anne begins, voice soft, “I know you’re old enough to be making your own decisions and that you’re more than capable of looking after yourself now, but. Be careful, yeah? I’m sure Louis is lovely, since I’ve seen some of her interviews—tough woman, that one, not scared of speaking her mind—but.” Her voice softens even more. “Don’t dive in headfirst so recklessly, yeah?”

Harry presses her cheek on top of her knees, lets her eyes fall shut. “Yeah, okay mum.”

“And,” Anne continues, “be careful in going out, as well. Louis is a celebrity and some paparazzi can be pretty nasty.”

Harry thinks back to their last date. They’d been ice skating, and Harry was absolutely rubbish at it—why did she ever think her limbs would magically turn graceful on ice. Louis had been perfectly wonderful, guiding Harry steadily with a gentle hand on her back and on her arm, and it had been nice. Until some bloke with a camera yelled from outside of the rink, “Hey Tomlinson! Is that your new toy?” before taking a picture of them.

Harry had felt it, then—the way Louis’ grip faltered for a second, tightened, and let go. She remembers clearly the look on Louis’ face, the way her jaw clenched and her eyes hardened as she glared at the pap, before placing a quick kiss on Harry’s forehead and telling her to stay put for a sec. And then she skated away, leaving Harry feeling confused and unsure, the words _Is that your new toy_ ringing in her ears.

That is, until a guard showed up minutes later to drag the pap away, and Louis reappeared with eyes that immediately softened once she looked at Harry. They left the rink hand in hand later, and that had been the first time Louis took Harry to see her home.

Harry smiles to herself, small and private, as she thinks of being spread out on top of Louis’ soft sheets and getting taken apart slowly by Louis’ mouth and hands, until the pap was out of her mind and all she could think of was Louis, Louis, Louis.

“Yeah,” she says into the phone, finally, “I’ll be careful.”

-

“Would you like to come on set with me next week?”

Harry blinks the mist away from her eyes, before turning her head to gape at Louis. The light coming from the screen of Louis’ home theatre illuminates her face just slightly, everything else covered in darkness. On screen, Hiccup is yelling at Toothless, and Harry thinks this is hardly a good time for Louis to be springing these kinds of questions at her.

She says just as much. “Um, I’m not sure if you’ve been paying attention to the movie, but someone just died.” She wipes at her eyes to get her point across. “I’m kinda emotional over here.”

“I’ve already seen this, and trust me, I’ve had a cry myself, as well,” Louis waves a hand, the movement like a blur of shadow and light in the dark. “But yeah, would you like to come on set with me next week?”

Harry bites her lip, thinking about it. The movie continues on in the background, but it’s the last thing on Harry’s mind right now because. Well.

Louis asking her to come on set is a pretty big deal. For one, it means that Louis is comfortable enough with this—this _thing_ that they have, for her to take Harry to her work and show a side of her that only a few people are lucky enough to witness. And, it also means Louis is totally open to the idea of introducing Harry to her co-actors, because surely there’ll be other A-listers there? This movie is a big one, and Harry’s pretty sure that the cast is, as well. It’s like. Louis wants her friends to know Harry.

But.

“Before I answer that, can I ask you something?” Harry starts, voice slow and just a bit unsure.

Louis blinks, but nods for Harry to continue.

“What are we?”

Louis stares at Harry for a moment. Harry waits for the actress to say something, anything, but Louis doesn’t speak. Instead she gets up, pauses the movie, and turns on the lights. Harry blinks at the sudden brightness, eyes squeezing shut on instinct, and when she opens them again she sees Louis looking at her.

“Are you asking me to define our relationship?” Louis asks, not unkindly. Just, curiously. Maybe even hopefully, Harry thinks.

Flushing, Harry shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, is it too early for us to be talking about this?”

Louis shakes her head. “No. I mean, we’ve been seeing each other for a month now, so.” She shrugs as well, before taking her previous seat beside Harry. “I like you, Harry,” she starts slowly, “and I like buying you stuff and hanging out with you and kissing you and making you happy.”

Harry nods slowly, hope bubbling in her chest. “I feel the same—except with the buying stuff, because I’m just a broke uni student, but.” She shrugs, heart hammering. “I like you.”

Louis smiles slowly. “I was afraid of bringing up the g-word in case I scared you away.”

Harry lets out a breath at that, heart thudding in anticipation. “So? We’re…”

“Girlfriends,” Louis finishes, nodding. Her smile widens, threatening to split her face in half. “We’re girlfriends.”

Harry barely stops herself from jumping onto Louis’ lap and hugging her tight.

-

Louis introduces Harry to everyone on set as her girlfriend.

Harry tries not to preen too much at that. She also tries very hard not to fall over every time a celebrity smiles her way. It’s a good thing Niall is also there to keep her in check, because of course Niall’s officially dating Zayn Malik now and she’s been visiting the set almost every single day for the last two weeks.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry asks, frowning when Niall just shrugs and fills her plate up with some pasta. It’s lunch break, and there’s a table full of food waiting for everyone. Harry’s own plate is still empty.

Niall takes a carrot stick and shoves it into her mouth. “So you never noticed me leaving the flat?”

“You always leave the flat,” Harry points out, “how was I supposed to know that you were coming here instead of, well. Instead of wherever it is you usually go to?”

Niall snorts. “You just weren’t paying attention, since you were too busy shooting heart-eyes at your phone.”

“Heyyyy,” Harry protests.

Louis appears, then, with Zayn in tow. “Hi, love,” she greets Harry, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her close. “How are you finding filming so far?”

Harry smiles, quickly forgetting about Niall and leaning further into the actress’ side. “It’s really interesting. It’s nice seeing how things behind the scenes work, and you’re great to watch.” She presses her flushed face against Louis’ shoulder. “You’re brilliant at what you do, Lou.”

“You’re biased, darling,” Louis says, squeezing Harry closer. “But thank you.”

Harry can’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

-

“Louis,” Harry pants, “the cupcakes are going to burn.”

Louis nips at a spot below Harry’s jaw, before trailing her lips down Harry’s neck and stopping by her pulse point to lightly suck a mark. Harry groans, eyeing the oven.

Louis had been demanding that Harry bake her something ever since she found out that Harry can bake, and Harry’s only found the time to do so now. She spent the night over, and woke up feeling like she wants to do something special for her girlfriend (Harry still gets butterflies at that, at being allowed to call Louis her girlfriend) since Louis’ been nothing but incredible to her.

But yeah. Louis pinning her against the kitchen counter and kissing her senseless is putting a dent to that plan.

And, okay. So maybe it’s Harry’s fault, too, since she woke up that morning and didn’t even bother pulling her clothes from last night on except for her knickers. Then she found this apron hanging by one of the chairs and, well. Louis walked in just as Harry was putting the cupcakes in the oven, took one look at her, and pinned her against the counter.

“It’s not my fucking fault,” Louis groans into her neck, hands sneaking underneath the apron and gripping at each of Harry’s thighs, “that you look good enough to eat.”

“Lou, shit,” Harry moans, trying to push Louis away even as she spreads her legs a little, subconsciously, “you’ve been demanding me to bake you something and—fuck—the cupcakes, Lou.”

Louis licks over the bruise she’s sucked before letting off, taking a step back and hungrily raking her eyes all over Harry. Harry’s cheeks are burning, and she steadies herself with one hand gripping onto the counter, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

Louis is still looking at her heatedly, and Harry flushes, pushing herself up from the counter. Her knees are a bit wobbly and her hands tremble just a little as she fixes her apron.

“Just so you know, I’m definitely fucking you against that counter after you take those cupcakes out,” Louis says.

Harry’s stomach twists in arousal at that. “On one condition.”

Louis just raises her eyebrows.

“You have to help me decorate the cupcakes after.”

Louis’ answering grin is wide and blinding. “Deal.”

-

Harry steps out of her flat to head for the grocery a few days later and is met by flashes and shouting. She blinks, stumbling a step back as three men holding a camera each approach her.

“Harry Styles!” one of them yells, lowering his camera just a little so he can smile at her. Harry feels her skin crawl unpleasantly. “So people have been seeing you out with Louis Tomlinson quite a lot these past few weeks! Care to tell us about that?”

Harry knew this was coming, and she’s spent a few nights talking to Louis about this, trying to mentally prepare herself for when the media inevitably catches on to what’s going on. It still takes her a few seconds to collect herself, though, pulling the hood of her jacket up and ducking her head as she passes by the paps, trying to hide her face as much as possible.

They follow after her.

“Is it true that you’re just a university student?”

“Is Louis Tomlinson paying for your tuition? Are you some kind of Pretty Woman, then, or are you in a legitimate relationship?”

“You’re quite plain-looking, darling. Do you think Tomlinson’s planning on keeping you around or do you feel like you’re just a passing fancy?”

“How do you feel about Zayn Malik remaining best friends with Louis Tomlinson? We all know they have history together.”

“Do you think someone like you really deserves someone like Louis Tomlinson?”

Harry tries to ignore them, she really does, but they’re persistent and annoying and some of the things they’re saying just… hurt. But it isn’t in Harry’s nature to really be angry, so she just turns to them and says, in her calmest voice, “Please stop following me.”

She gets another flash to her face in response.

Flustered, Harry says again, louder this time, “Are you not listening to me? Leave me alone!” And then she spins on her heel, walking away from the paps without looking back. She ignores the questions that get shouted at her, but fortunately she doesn’t hear any of them following. She does, however, notice a few people on the street looking at her, whispering to each other. She flushes at the attention and ducks her head, walking even faster.

She heads inside the first store she sees, which happens to be the small bookstore she worked for last summer. Barbara, the old lady who not only owns the store but also practically runs it by herself, starts to smile but then stops once she sees the state Harry is in.

“Oh, dear, did something happen to you?” she asks, walking from behind the counter and hurrying over to where Harry’s leaning against the glass door, trying to catch her breath and calm herself down. “Are you okay?”

Harry tries to smile, but she’s pretty sure it turns out more as a grimace. Her hands are shaking, too, and she clenches them into tight fists. “I just—can I use the loo, Babs?”

“Of course, dear,” Babs says quickly, placing a hand on Harry’s lower back and guiding her in between bookshelves and towards the back of the shop. Harry tries to take comfort in her touch and motherly tone, but she still feels like curling up in a corner and clawing at her skin. She knows that right now, there’s only one person who can make everything feel better.

She thanks Babs and tells her that she just needs a second. Babs smiles at her and tells her to take all the time she needs. Once the door’s firmly shut, Harry closes the lid on the toilet and sits down, taking a few deep breaths. Her hands are still slightly shaking when she takes her phone out of her jeans pocket and dials the number she’s come to memorize over the last few weeks.

It goes to voicemail, and Harry lets out a tiny, defeated whimper. She stares at her phone, biting on her lip, and tries again.

Louis answers on the fourth ring. “Hey, babe! Sorry, John was just talking to me about redoing a scene with Tom. But what’s up?”

Harry lets out a breath. “Lou.”

Louis senses that something’s wrong, with just that. “Love? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Harry leans her head against the wall beside her. She can feel her lower lip trembling slightly. “I just—some paps found out about where I live, and they. They followed me and asked me questions and I just—”

“Fuck,” Louis swears, voice low. She sounds angry, all of a sudden. “Did they do anything to you? Did they touch you?”

“No, Lou, they didn’t touch me, but,” Harry exhales shakily, squeezing her eyes shut, “they asked some pretty mean questions. Like, whether I was just some kind of fuck to you or if I was just sticking around for the money.”

“Bullshit,” Louis says, “everything the paps say, it’s all bullshit, yeah? We talked about this, love. Don’t listen to them.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Harry whispers, voice sounding weak even to her own ears, “and I tried really hard to ignore them like you told me I should, but. They wouldn’t leave me alone and the things they were saying hurt so I told them to stop following me, I’m sorry, Lou.”

“No, no, Hazza,” Louis says, voice suddenly soft and reassuring, “don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, darling, it’s not your fault that you snapped.”

“I just. I feel really shitty right now.”

“Where are you, love? Where are you right now?”

“I’m at a bookstore. The one I told you I used to work in?”

“Okay, yeah, I remember. Darling? Listen to me, stay there, yeah? There may still be some paps out there, so I’m coming over to get you—”

“No, Lou,” Harry cuts Louis off, straightening up. “You have work, I don’t want you to leave just because of me.”

“No, it’s fine, love,” Louis insists. Her voice fades for a moment, as though she’s talking to someone else, and Harry bites her lower lip as she waits for the actress to come back on the line. “Okay, I just talked to John and he said I’m free for the rest of the day. Well, I have to head in earlier tomorrow to film my solo scenes but.” Harry can practically hear Louis shrugging. “I’m coming to get you.”

“You really don’t have to—”

“Harry, darling,” Louis says, voice even softer. It soothes Harry. “It’s fine. You’re important to me, so I need to make sure you’re okay. Wait for me, yeah? I’ll get there as fast as I can.”

It should be scary, how three words are the first thing to pop in Harry’s head upon hearing Louis’ words, but. It’s really not. Still, she pushes them to the back of her mind for now, instead settling for a ‘thank you.’

She stands in front of the sink mirror after Louis disconnects the call. She splashes some water onto her face, takes deep breaths and counts from one to ten. When she feels like she’s calmed down enough, she steps out of the comfort room and into the main shop. She finds Babs sitting behind the counter again, and there’s a cup of tea waiting for her. Harry smiles in thanks as she takes a sip, feeling slightly better.

“Do you want to talk about it, sweetie?” Babs asks as she sets out a chair for her.

Harry smiles again in thanks as she sits down, holding her tea in both hands. “I just had my first run-in with the paparazzi.”

“Oh,” Babs says, sounding surprised, “so you really are dating that Tomlinson girl?”

Harry blinks, not really expecting Babs to be aware of show business gossip. “Yes, I am. How did you know?”

“I was out buying milk the other day, dear, and I saw a magazine. I thought it was you at the front cover,” Babs explains gently. Her tone hardens a little, though, when she asks, “Why? Did those people do anything to you?”

Harry looks down at the tea in her hands, shrugs. “They just said some really hurtful stuff, like I’m just after Louis’ money or that Louis’ just keeping me around for the sex.”

“Aw, dearie.” Babs places an arm around her shoulders and Harry leans into the touch. “Sometimes people say hurtful things to get a rise out of you, but you shouldn’t let them get to you. As long as you know the things they’re saying aren’t true, then you should just ignore them.”

Harry nods once.

It’s silent after that, Harry sending Niall a quick text to let her know what happened. Babs gets back to work, fixing the books on display and making sure that everything is shelved in the right places, but she makes sure to let Harry know to call if she needs anything.

Louis arrives around fifteen minutes later, looking worried. She spots Harry easily and Harry just falls into her arms, clinging to her tightly and letting out a shuddery breath. Louis pets at her hair, coos comfortingly into her ear, and holds her for as long as she needs.

They thank Babs after, and once they’re inside Louis’ car—not one of her overly fancy cars, since that might attract even more attention—Louis lets Harry cry a little against her shoulder. Harry isn’t even sure why she’s crying. She just knows that it’s a little overwhelming, and some of the things those paps have told her are still ringing in her ears, _are you some kind of Pretty Woman_ and _or are you just a passing fancy_ and, the worst, _do you think someone like you deserves someone like Louis Tomlinson_.

She shudders, and Louis presses a kiss on top of her head when they stop at a red light. “I’m so sorry, love. You shouldn’t have to deal with that kind of bullshit.”

Harry sniffs. “No. I knew this would eventually happen. It’s just—I was just overwhelmed, I guess.”

“Do you want to go to your place or mine? There might still be some paps at your place, though.”

“I can text Niall?”

“Sure, love.”

Harry sends Niall a text just as Louis starts driving again, the car pushing forward slowly since Louis still doesn’t know where to take them. Niall replies quickly enough, _yeah I can still see sum ppl w cameras outsyd_ with an angry-looking emoticon.

“She says there are still some paps waiting for me to come back.”

Louis nods once. “My place it is, then.”

Harry texts Niall to let her know that she’s staying at Louis’ for the night, and Niall responds with _ok haz. u’ll b fine, I luv u yea_. Harry smiles at her best friend’s message, holding her phone to her chest and feeling slightly better.

-

They talk about it that night.

Curled up against Louis’ side, Harry lets the sound of the older girl’s voice calm her. She closes her eyes, takes comfort in the way Louis’ fingers are threading through her hair, light and soft. Louis’ singing softly underneath her breath, a tune that Harry recognizes but can’t put a name to.

“You have a really nice voice,” Harry whispers in the silence that follows the end of Louis’ song. She doesn’t know why she’s keeping her voice down when it’s just the two of them in the room, but for some reason it feels like they’re caught in a bubble, and anything louder than a whisper would shatter the moment.

Louis laughs, also quiet, and there’s no real humor behind it. “Thank you, love.”

Harry presses her face against the bare skin of Louis’ shoulder, keeps her eyes shut as Louis’ fingers tug lightly on her hair, as though to remind Harry that she’s there for her. “It’s only gonna get worse from here, isn’t it?” she asks, and she hates how vulnerable her voice sounds, even to her own ears.

Louis tugs a little more at her hair, until Harry is forced to open her eyes and look up. Louis’ eyes are really lovely, the blue in them reminding Harry of an ocean, and right now that ocean is still and calm, like how it is before a storm. “Yeah, but only at first. You just… get used to it, I guess. There’ll come a time that their words will mean nothing to you, like they’re just another buzz in the background.” She chuckles a little, shakes her head. “That is, if you’ll even want to stay with me after today. I wouldn’t blame you if you change your mind, love. I meant it when I said I don’t want you to be the target of all the pap bullshit. This is… this is a nasty place, and I don’t. I don’t want you to experience that.”

Harry blinks at that, pushing herself up a bit so she can look straight at Louis. “What are you saying? Louis. Of course I’ll want to stay with you, don’t be daft. You mean a lot more to me than what those paps have to say. And I’m aware of how bad it can get, but. I’m willing to face all of that. You—you’re important to me.”

And for the first time that day, Louis smiles, small but genuine. “You’re important to me, too.” She presses a kiss on top of Harry’s head. “But people—they talk a lot, okay? Too much, if you ask me. They’ll make up these stories, these lies, just to get a reaction out of us. I’m not telling you it’s going to be easy, because it’s not. But I’m going to be here, yeah? Every step of the way.”

Harry manages a smile at that, heart thudding a bit faster against her chest. She presses a kiss on Louis’ shoulder, says, “I know you will.”

“And,” Louis continues, voice softer, “just always remember that they know nothing, yeah? What you and me have, it’s just between us. It’s ours and no one else’s, so none of whatever negative thing they have to say should matter, alright? I know it’s hard, and I’m not expecting you to just get used to it immediately, but.” She pauses, presses her lips against Harry’s temple. “We’ll make it.”

Harry falls asleep that night feeling warm and safe, Louis wrapped around her comfortingly and reassuringly.

-

 _Breathe in_ , Harry tells herself, _just breathe_.

The shouting gets louder. Harry tries to tune it out, keeping her gaze straight ahead. Louis squeezes her hand once, and it grounds her, keeps her mind from wandering to places that she doesn’t want to go to. She distracts herself. Tries to think of something else, something that doesn’t make her feel like suffocating.

She thinks of that night. She closes her eyes, takes careful steps, lets Louis’ hand holding hers guide her through the crowd. She can still hear them, can still hear all those people shouting questions, comments. She keeps her eyes shut, thinks of Louis looking beautiful and untouchable in her navy blue gown, thinks of Louis looking beautiful and real in the light of the streetlamps, thinks of Louis looking beautiful and powerful in the backseat of her car.

The shouting turns into a buzz, into a kind of white noise in the background, as Harry lets her thoughts carry her further away. She thinks of sneaked kisses behind jellyfish aquariums, of heated touches in the changing room of a clothing store, of fond looks in the movie room. She focuses on her breathing, keeps thinking of every moment she’s spent with Louis so far, plays _We’ll make it_ on a loop in her head. She thinks of Louis’ eyes every time they look at her, thinks of how the blue in them reminds her of a sea, the waters ever-changing in color as the sun shines, as the clouds get dark, as the skies become stormy, like a reflection of Louis’ emotions.

They make it to the limo. The noise gets cut off the moment the door shuts behind them, and Harry counts in her head, a silent one-two-three, before she opens her eyes. Her hand’s still in Louis’, but the touch has turned softer, and it’s just them. Just them and the silence and the sound of Harry’s heart pounding in her chest, ringing in her ears.

Louis’ eyes are a clear blue right now, bright like the waters of a sunlit ocean. Harry feels at peace.

“I love you,” she says, quiet, as the limo starts moving. She sits still, presses her lips tight together, lets the soft whir of the car fill the silence. She keeps her gaze lowered, unsure of how Louis will respond, unsure of how Louis’ eyes look now. Unsure of whether they’re bright blue or stormy gray or calm green. She’s not sure she’s ready to know.

And then Louis squeezes her hand, just once. Says, voice only a breath above a whisper, “I love you, too.”

Harry lets out a breath. Looks up.

Calm blue. Like an ocean at rest. Clear. Still. Honest.

Harry breathes, and it’s just them and the weight of their words. It’s just them.

-

The next month flies by in a whirlwind of not-so-hushed rumors each time Harry so much as steps out of her flat, seeing her own face staring back at her when she looks at online gossip sites and magazines, and having Louis hold her close each night while sharing whispered conversations in the dark.

It’s hard, being in the spotlight now that people have caught on that she and Louis are properly together. It’s even harder once they found out about Niall, because every time they’re seen together, the papers make up these nasty rumors about Harry cheating on Louis and generally not being good enough for her. Those only stopped when Zayn got so fed up with the media turning Harry and Louis’ relationship into a playground that she kissed Niall in public one day and claimed that she’s the one who is actually dating Niall, so can the paps kindly fuck off and stop making shit up about Harry, thanks. Zayn rarely loses her temper, only ever does something like that when the people she cares about are involved.

Harry baked her three different cakes in thanks, and Zayn hugged her.

So for a while, the media attention shifted to Niall and Zayn. Harry felt bad, of course, but Zayn assured her that it’s okay, that it was her choice to tell everyone about Niall since she’s also sick of reading all of the awful things people have been saying about Harry. And, Zayn had sheepishly added, she might’ve also gotten a bit possessive.

Louis, like she promised, has been there all the way. If Harry ever has any doubts about what exactly she is to Louis, it vanishes every time Louis holds her hand proudly in public, steals quick kisses from her each time they go on a date, and secretly whispers _I love you_ against her skin, when it’s just them and no one else.

So it goes on like that for a month, until Harry just wakes up one day and it’s the start of a new term. She finds a text waiting for her in her phone, a simple _goodluck w uni love xx_ from Louis that puts a smile on her face for the rest of the day.

-

Harry’s not really focusing on the lesson, too caught up with texting Louis underneath her desk. It’s a large class anyway, and they’re inside one of the bigger lecture halls instead of the classrooms for smaller, more detailed lessons. Harry prefers those kinds of classes, really, especially if it’s philosophy. The discussions are more in-depth and she actually gets to participate, instead of just sitting in a semi-dark room listening to the professor drone on and on up front, while the projector shows them a boring PowerPoint presentation of the lecture.

 _The Meaning of Life_. Harry thinks about life a lot. Or, she used to at least, until Louis came along and then she’s all Harry could think of.

But then again. Maybe Louis is the one who gives meaning to her life.

She bites her lip to hold back a smile at the ridiculously sappy thought, texting Louis about it. Her phone buzzes with a reply a minute later, and she waits until her professor’s gaze has passed over her before opening the text and reading, _ur ridiculous u know? but i love u anyway xx_

She’s just starting to type back a reply when another text comes in, _im picking u up later. what time do u get out?_

Harry feels a jolt, a little shiver of excitement go through her at that. It’s been a while since she and Louis last spent some time together (‘a while’ here being two days, but whatever; Harry is allowed to miss her girlfriend).

She sends back a quick reply before locking her phone and putting it in her pocket, because she’s pretty sure her professor’s been looking at her suspiciously for the last minute now and she really doesn’t want to get caught. Even though this is university now, not some high school where you get detention if you displease the teacher, Harry doesn’t want to risk it. She misses Louis and wants to see her as soon as class is done.

The rest of the lecture goes by slowly, Harry glancing at the watch attached to her wrist (yet another one of Louis’ gifts) every minute. She lets out a sigh once the bell rings, and everyone gets up slowly, shoving their things into their bags. Harry’s already put her notes back in her bag five minutes ago, so she’s the first one out the door.

Louis brought her convertible this time. Harry easily spots it once she reaches the parking lot behind the humanities building, standing out among the other cars parked around it. Kinda like Louis, Harry thinks. Anyone can easily pick Louis from a crowd, for the main reason that she looks like a goddess next to everyone else.

Louis must’ve seen her coming because she rolls the roof down just as Harry approaches. She looks gorgeous, hair carelessly down and shades on. Her lipstick’s blood red, and Harry wants to see that color smudged all over the insides of her thighs as soon as possible. God. Harry wasn’t like this before, she swears, but Louis is just really beautiful and Harry is a little bit in love.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

Harry blushes, ducking her head to hide her smile. She can hear some whispering somewhere behind her, probably from some students who have caught on to the fact that Louis Tomlinson is in their campus. Harry tries to ignore them and focuses instead on Louis stepping out of her convertible so she can pull Harry in for a short but sweet kiss.

“How was class, darling?”

“Boring,” Harry answers, pouting. “I hate the kind of lecture where the professor just reads the lesson from some slides. There’s no actual discussion.”

“Ah, well,” Louis says, pushing her shades up so that Harry can see her eyes crinkling by the corners as she smiles, “let’s make the rest of your afternoon more exciting, then.”

-

They spend the rest of the afternoon baking cookies in Louis’ kitchen, and when darkness falls they stay in the kitchen with Harry teaching Louis how to make chicken and mash. They eat out of the pan right there on the counter, not even bothering with getting any plates or forks. Harry pinches a strip of chicken from the pan with her fingers and feeds it to Louis, and Louis makes Harry lick mashed potato off of the spatula. Louis brings wine out once they’re done eating and they drink straight from the bottle, exchanging quick kisses in between sips and giggling into each other’s mouths.

Louis dumps everything in the sink after, before lifting Harry up onto the counter and going down on her for half an hour, eating her out until Harry is crying and shaking and coming. They make out lazily for minutes after, and then Louis lifts Harry into her arms and carries her into the shower.

Harry falls asleep in Louis’ bed an hour later with the older woman wrapped around her, feeling like she’s falling in love even more as her eyes slip shut. She dreams of standing in an ocean just as the sun is setting, of Louis holding her hand as the wind blows softly around them, hair fluttering in the wind and shadows dancing on the sand.

-

_Seven Months Later_

“Harry, will you please stay still?” Perrie asks, sounding exasperated. She’s got hair pins in between her lips and Harry’s not really sure how she’s speaking, but Perrie’s probably used to multitasking by now. She’s been a professional designer for months now, after all.

“Sorry,” Harry mutters, grabbing onto the nearest person for support, who happens to be Liam. Liam steadies her with a hand on her shoulder as Perrie makes sure not a strand of hair is out of place on her head. “These heels are just a bit hard to stand in.”

“Will you be able to walk?” Liam asks, brows furrowed. “You can hardly even stand.”

“Those heels go well with her outfit,” Perrie insists, “plus it makes her look taller.”

“I’m already tall enough,” Harry points out.

“No one is ever tall enough.”

“Pezza, you’re literally standing on a chair right now,” Niall chirps in, walking into Harry’s bedroom and carelessly sitting on the edge of Harry’s bed. Harry notices that she’s not wearing heels.

“How come Niall doesn’t have to wear heels?” she asks, pouting.

“Oh, fine,” Perrie says, jumping down from the chair she’s been standing on to fix Harry’s hair. “I thought this was going to happen so I brought another pair of shoes.”

“See, this could’ve been easily solved,” Harry says. Perrie just rolls her eyes.

It’s the night of the premiere of _Fireproof_ , the movie Louis and Zayn were filming for the last couple of months, and obviously Harry and Niall are coming as their dates. Perrie’s volunteered to dress them up for the event, and Liam’s here to make sure they don’t go too crazy because frankly, Harry is nervous as fuck.

Even though it’s been months since she and Louis were in the spotlight, this is the first time Louis’ taking her to an event as big as this. There’ll be a lot of important people there, and just thinking about walking on a red carpet with dozens of cameras trained in their direction and about twice as many reporters shooting them questions makes Harry want to just stay in her bed and read Kant.

But she knows this is a big thing for Louis. The actress has told her that it’s fine if Harry’s not comfortable to go out there and face that many people, but Harry wants to be there. She wants to be with Louis in this important moment and be able to hold her hand through all of the camera flashes and questions. She wants to smile and take pictures of Louis with her fans if she can, because she’s not really opposed to the idea of playing the role of photographer for the night. This is Louis’ night, after all (and the rest of the cast’s as well, of course) and Harry wants to see her girlfriend out there, doing her thing and receiving all the praise and attention she deserves.

“Zee just texted me,” Niall pipes up, breaking Harry out of her thoughts. “They’ll be here in five minutes.”

Liam helps Harry step out of her heels and Perrie sets the other pair of shoes by Harry’s feet, these ones thankfully flat. Perrie does a few final touches on Harry’s outfit before deeming her ready, and then she’s scurrying over towards Niall and scolding her for the wrinkles on her skirt. Niall just shrugs, not bothered in the slightest.

The limo arrives quickly enough, and the first thing Niall says is, “There’s only one limo? Zayn, you promised me limo sex ala Partition.”

Liam looks scandalized while Perrie snorts and Harry just rolls her eyes. Zayn giggles and pulls Niall in for a kiss, says, “I know, babe. We’ll kick Harry and Louis out by the end of the night.”

“Oi, let me remind you two that this is my limo,” Louis says, stepping out of the car, and Harry’s breath catches in her throat at the sight of her girlfriend. She looks beautiful, utterly gorgeous, but unlike before when Harry stands beside her and feels like an unworthy kid, now she somehow feels beautiful as well. Louis just makes her feel like that, is the thing, makes her feel like they’re invincible. Like they’re fireproof.

Niall snorts, and Harry realizes she’s said that out loud. “Already making puns about the movie title, Harry?”

Harry ducks her head to hide her blush. “Shut up, Niall.”

They all laugh, and Louis moves to wrap an arm around Harry’s waist, squeezing once. “Hey babe,” she whispers, lips just an inch away from Harry’s ear, “you look incredibly lovely tonight.”

“Speak for yourself,” Harry says, cheeks still flushed.

Louis smiles at her. “I’d love to kiss you right now, but I’m afraid I can’t. We wouldn’t want to ruin our makeup even before we get to the premiere, Perrie and Caroline would kill us.”

Harry snorts at that. “Caroline loves me. She gave me chocolates, remember?”

“Her daughter gave you chocolates,” Louis points out. It seems that she can’t resist, though, and gives Harry a quick peck on the lips, like a promise for later tonight. “And _we’re_ totally having limo sex after the event, by the way. Zayn and Niall need to find their own ride back.”

“Hey,” Zayn protests, overhearing the exchange, “I knew there was a reason you had Beyonce’s album in there.”

Harry giggles, pressing closer to Louis’ side and nuzzling into her neck. “I’m looking forward to it, then.”

“Great.” Louis grins. “Now let’s go. People are waiting for our grand arrival.”

“You don’t even have the lead roles in this film,” Perrie says, but it’s clear that she’s only teasing.

“Oh, Pezza my dear, Tom Hiddleston may have the lead role, but let’s be honest here—everyone will be waiting for Harry and me.” Louis takes Harry’s hand and winks, adds, “After all, we _are_ this industry’s power couple. Brangelina make way, Lourry is here.”

Harry barks out a laugh at that. “Lourry? Why Lourry? Why not, I don’t know, Larry or something?”

“Whatever, darling, that’s not the point.” Louis taps Harry on the nose with her index finger. “The point is, we’re going to blow everyone away.”

And really, Harry can’t argue with that. She finds that her nerves from earlier have gone, and as she steps into the limo with Louis, Niall, and Zayn following close behind her, she realizes that she’ll be okay as long as Louis’ with her.

Harry smiles and takes Louis’ hand in hers, and for the rest of the night they stay by each other’s side. Harry can’t ask for anything more.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](http://black-and-scarlet.tumblr.com/) or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/MarchieTheHare).


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